Last Friday, The Lunch Ladies released Down on Sunset Strip on Good Eye Records. It’s now Monday, and I’ve been listening to this album for four straight days. I’ve written a review for this album each day, for four straight days, but I keep deleting them and starting over because every time I listen to Down on Sunset Strip, I take something new away from it, think of something new to say, and try again to adequately convey what this album is. I’m not saying that this is the best or most insightful review, but this is the one I’m posting, because I can’t waste any more time without telling you to go check it out.
The post-punk influence in this record is evident. Strong accents on the down beats get your head bouncing in time, maybe even your shoulders swaying if you’re having a good day and feel so inclined. The guitars are light and delicate and kinda float around while the vocals are strong and deliberate and cut through all else.
The lyrics tend to be heavy and depressing. As the appropriately named “Sad Jeans” goes, “Dance while you still can because you won’t be able to one day/ Bleakened colors in my mind/ I’m not yours, but I wish you were fine,” and “Bumming Too Much” asks, “Would you even care/ If one day I got up and died/ Love doesn’t matter/ Artificial Suicide.” But while the lyrics themselves are dark, the light guitars and heavy thumping bass bring so much positivity that each song conveys an uplifting overall feel.
Where I really fell for this album was on “Love is Overrated,” which starts in with a bassline from Cynthia Rittenbach that’s almost reminiscent of an oldies, Happy Days-kinda vibe that is teeming with an optimistic sentimentality, which again, despite the less-than-exuberant subject matter, manages to be oddly comforting. The Lunch Ladies recorded what I feel is the perfect album to lay on your floor in the dark to, and when you eventually step outside again into the light for more whiskey or to bathe for the first time in days, you just feel better. They walked you through whatever it was that had you torn up. The Lunch Ladies are truly your best friends, just like high school all over again.
Adam gave man-birth to N.J. Racket and is as close to an "editor-in-chief" the site has. He's a god awful photographer.